


On One Side of the World

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And then it's not, Aurors, Child Abuse, Companion Piece, Death Eaters, Everyone is Dead, F/M, Gen, Kid Fic, Magic, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Mother-Son Relationship, Pre-Canon, Pre-Hogwarts, Prelude, Running Away, Sister-Sister Relationship, Wrongful Imprisonment, supplemental piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-18
Updated: 2013-11-18
Packaged: 2018-01-01 22:44:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1049439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eyes wandering back to the soft body breathing in and out against him, Kenneth tucks a curl behind his cousin's ear. "You're lucky, you were born because mother loved your's." He murmurs; daringly ducking down and planting a kiss on her forehead. He won't see her again, he bets. Maybe when she's older, though...maybe she'll have magic. It's a wish he knows, but it's so much easier to dream at twelve than to accept the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On One Side of the World

**Author's Note:**

> To go with the latest chapter of "We can Begin the World All Over Again"

_"What do you think of your cousin?" Lifting his stare up from the ringlet framed face of his baby cousin Louise, Kenneth smiles at his mother's anxious face._

_"She's very calm for being so little," he tells her. "Not like Berenice before..." the boy stops; face turning ashen as his fingers curl harshly in the sleeve of the toddler snoozing in his lap._

_Mother pats his head, "Yes, she's a good girl;" mother agrees eyes glistening as she turns back to her sister-his aunt as she walks into the small living room, juggling a tea-tray._

_Eyes wandering back to the soft body breathing in and out against him, Kenneth tucks a curl behind his cousin's ear. "You're lucky, you were born because mother loved your's." He murmurs; daringly ducking down and planting a kiss on her forehead. He won't see her again, he bets. Maybe when she's older, though...maybe she'll have magic. It's a wish he knows, but it's so much easier to dream at twelve than to accept the truth._

XxXxX

He's twenty-five and everything's already over. Father (the domineering, spiteful,  _evil_ man) had given mother over to Lord Voldemort as a traitor when he found the letters-the letters linking Mother to allowing her squib sister to  _breed_ with muggles and bare mudblood children, diluting the good blood of pure wizards. The Lord killed her on the spot; Kenneth hardly waited until he and father returned to their manor before he let that coursing rage out on father with single killing curse. Realizing what he had done, Kenneth Wilkes dropped his wand and ran to the hiding spot where mother used to keep the rest of her letters; opening the little niche behind the portrait of their family in the parlor, the man is relieved to find a small pile still neatly stacked away.

Shifting through them, he wonders if his mother's sister and his cousins are still alive. Would Lord Voldemort have already killed them? Or would he have waited...pushing the letters into his cloak, Kenneth realizes belatedly that aurors are probably on their way. He killed his  _father_ after all, (not to mention a number of muggles, mudbloods and sympathizers over the past few years) panic setting in, the young man attempts to disapparate; maybe if he went to muggle London he could escape...but, instead of that familiar pull; Kenneth doubles over out of breath. An anti-disapparation jinx...looking up, he sees two aurors staring grimly at him.

"Avda Ke-" He weakly begins; knowing very well what will happen.

"Avda Kedavra!" One yells faster, louder, stronger than Wilkes. A green bolt shoots from the Auror's wand and into the smirking man's face, instantly, the Death-Eater's face falls slack and he tumbles to the ground his eyes unseeing.

"Shit," an auror swears, "That's what the bloody-arse wanted! He didn't even have a wand!"

Kneeling down by the dead man, the other inquires; "Why do you think that is?"

"He probably didn't want to betray his  _lord,_ " he spits.

"I don't know..." the other murmurs doubtfully; pulling a sizable stack of letters from the body's.

"What are those?"

"They're letters...to a woman-his mother's sister! Do you remember the rumors that used to go around about his family?"

"Yeah, didn't they say his mum helped her squib sister run away?"

"They did, it seems it was  _true_...she lives in London, married; with a couple of kids even-well, if they're still alive." He remarks, neatly putting them back in a pile.

"Huh, I always wondered how she possibly could have accomplished something like that and lived afterwards too..."

"It would be quite a tale I bet; too bad they're all dead now." The auror sighs.

His fellow auror pats his shoulder. "Don't get too worked up about it, he was a criminal either way; killing and hurting people as he did."

"I know, you're right; but, do you think he was going to find them?" They ask.

"Who knows, c'mon we have to get back and put in our report; I'd really like to get some sleep tonight." The one says walking towards the door.

"Right," the auror agrees, getting up and following the other out. He can't help but look back, the nagging questions surrounding this man bothering him; just what happened with his father, what was he going to do with those letters and most of all, the oldest question...how did his mother help her sister get to the muggle world?

* * *

Tabitha waits with baited breath hunkered underneath her father's desk; she's not six anymore and father's a million times less likely just to drag her out and slap her around a bit for "snooping". No. If he catches her this time, he's going to do something much worse. His left foot comes and scratches at his right ankle; causing his trousers to rise up just enough to show the coating of umber hair on his leg. Gnawing her lip, she listens to his pen scratch out whatever message he's sending to Wilkes's father this week. Just one more year of school. Just one more year of freedom.

Father wanted to marry her off this summer...somehow, mother talked him down; told him to wait for her to at least finish her education. Tabitha is thankful for that at least; it's what will help her tonight. It's what will save Morgan. Beneath the oak, Tabitha waits; eventually, father puts down his pen and calls for Hark, the family owl. She hears the familiar tittering of the little fellow, a bit of rustling and father's low voice giving directions...the candles are dimmed and the girl thinks her father has gone. She leans forward, ready to slip out when father's looming shadow falls in front of the desk. Clapping a hand to her mouth to swallow back her scream; Tabitha falls back cowering against the heavy wood. Blowing shallow breaths upon her thumb, she listens carefully as father does a bit more shuffling, clomping, before the door to the study creaks and closes with what she hopes to be finality.

Waiting a few minutes longer;Tabitha slips out and peaks around the desk, in the shadows she finds no one. Good. Father is gone. Reaching for the largest drawer, she opens it and the taps once on the ceiling of the space; a little box falls out. Opening it, she finds what she was waiting for. Putting the box back, Tabitha kisses the key and slips it between her breasts. All will be well, all will be well...

Padding across the fur rug, Tabitha eases the door open and peers both ways; father is long gone. Inching out of the room, she closes the door behind her. Pulling out her pocket watch, she releases a breath; she doesn't have long. Darting down long halls, she eventually makes it to the very corner of the manner; knocking thrice on an empty painting, she's given access to stairwell. Hurrying up, she pulls out the key and fumbles only once as she shoves it into the lock opening the door.

"Tabby!" Morgan cries, leaping up from where she was curled in the rocking chair beside the window.

Putting a finger to her lips, the older sister shakes her head. "Get dressed," she orders.

Confused, the smaller sister does so; her gray eyes searching Tabitha. The older girl, though, knows there is no time to waste; pulling the satchel off her shoulder she comes up behind Morgan and pulls down anything remotely muggle-looking and shoves it into the bag.

"What are you doing!" Morgan cries upset.

Whipping around Tabitha slaps her. "Shut up! Stop asking questions! For  _once_ in your life, just  _do_!"

The younger falls back, snivelling and pained. Instantly filled with regret, Tabitha hurries to find remedy. Curling a stray lock of hair beneath her ear; her finger brushes against metal. Her earings! Morgan has always coveted her pearls...taking them out quickly, she gives them to the child.

"Here, those are yours now," she tells her.

Confused, Morgan takes them. "Why? What's happening?"

Glancing to the satchel, Tabitha deems it reasonably full and slings it on her sister's shoulder. "No time," she replies, a hand coming to rest on her head and they are gone.

* * *

Moments later, they are in the darkness of an alley-way; the orphanage is just a half-street up. Letting her hand fall from her sister's head, she takes up her head and attempts to drag her out.

"No!" The younger snaps. "I want to know what we are doing!"

Frustrated, Tabitha shouts. "Isn't it obvious? I'm helping you runaway you little  _freak_!"

Morgan stills. "Why? Why do I have to runaway?" She whispers.

Sighing, Tabitha takes her little sister's face between her palms; tilting that pale face up. "You are a squib," she whispers, "A squib of a prominent family...don't you know what an embarrassment you are to father? Mother? _Me_?" The child's lip is trembling and her eyes fogging up; knowing she can have none of it, the teenager sneers. "Don't tell me you didn't know...are you truly that naive?"

The smaller girl pulls away, rubbing her tears away. "Why are you being so mean Tabby?" She begs.

Scoffing, Tabitha grabs her wrist. "Don't be ridiculous, we need to go." As they rush up the street, her little sister squeezes her hand.

"Will you write me?" Morgan inquires.

Tabitha thinks it over. "Sometimes," she agrees. Coming to the orphanage, she stops and tightens the strap of the satchel to better suit her sister; fitting it to her smaller frame. Glancing to the building, she whispers; "See that bell in the lamp-light reflection? " Once the smaller nods, the teenager continues, "Go ring it, a nun will let you in."

The younger girl wraps her arms around Tabitha. "I love you."

Wrenching her sister off her, the older sister tries to smile. "I do too, never  _ever_ forget alright? I did this for  _you_."

A dry kiss is put on her cheek and Morgan disappears into the dark; a bell clanging in the night...Tabitha disapparates, she can't watch; it will break her.

* * *

Father is there in her room. Turning her head, the teenager reaches for the Belladonna extract around her neck; "If you so much as take a step towards me, I'll take this all and I'll be dead before you can use an antidote."

The man sneers. "You're joking, tell me where you took your sister."

Popping the cork, the young woman puts it to her lips. "No more heir, no more leverage...you will die destitute father."

"Stop!" He yells, eyes bulging with panic.

Slowly, Tabitha takes the extract away. "I do not lie father, I will take this if you try to look for Morgan." She warns him.

The man scowls. "I will get you back for this," he swears.

Resigned to this, the woman smiles. "I know," she answers.

XxXxX

_Looking to the curl-topped toddler in her son's long arms, Tabitha resists the urge to blow on her thumb as she did as girl to cool her thudding heart. So, smiling down at her son she asks; "What do you think of your cousin?"_

_Her boy is silent for a little less than a minute. "She's very calm for being so little," he acknowledges, "Not like Berenice before.." he stops; face white._

_Tears behind her eyes, the woman reaches out and pats her son's head; Berenice is too new a wound to dwell on. "Yes she is a good girl," the woman concurs. Turning at the sound of tea cups clanking; Tabitha barely catches her son's whispered words._

_"You're lucky, because mother loved your's..." Closing her eyes; the woman doesn't know if she should smile or cry. Those words...it could mean he's her son or his father's; she prays he's hers._

_She prays Kenneth puts love before all else. Not duty. Never duty._


End file.
